Caleb's POV

Chapter 6

Caleb's POV

The house was quiet when I walked in.Too quiet.

I had been expecting the usual… the low hum of the TV, the smell of leftover food on the stove, maybe the sound of Mia's footsteps upstairs. But the house felt hollow. Like a shell that had been emptied out. Like something important had been removed and the walls hadn't figured it out yet.

"Nora!" I called out, dropping my keys on the console table near the door.

But I got no response.

“Where the hell is this woman!” I mumbled.

I loosened my tie and walked into the kitchen. The lights were on, but nobody was in there, the counter was spotless, and every dish was put away. The roast pan from dinner was cleaned and stacked. It looked like nobody had ever lived here.

"Nora, I know you're upset about tonight," I said, louder this time, moving toward the bottom of the stairs. 

"But I'm not going to stand here and be ignored in my own house. Come down."

Still, no response.

I climbed the stairs, checking Mia's room first. Empty. The bed was made, the curtains were still, and her dance bag was gone from the hook behind the door. I checked the guest room. Empty. 

I checked Tara's room. Her lights were off, her door locked… she was probably still at her friend's place after the party, so I didn't bother knocking.

I walked back to the master bedroom, already unbuttoning my shirt, telling myself that Nora had probably taken Mia on one of her quiet little night drives. She did that sometimes when she was sulking.

She would drive around for an hour, come back with fast food for Mia, and pretend everything was fine the next morning.

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off my shoes.

She would be back. She was always back… there is no way she could survive without me. Pathetic. 

I went back downstairs to get a glass of water. That was when I saw it.

Something small and gold on the kitchen table. I walked closer, my steps slowed. 

My brain registered it before my heart was ready to. Nora's wedding ring. It was sitting right in the center of the table, directly under the light, like it had been placed there on purpose. Like someone wanted to make sure it would be the first thing I saw. Next to it was a small black card, thick and expensive-looking, with gold letters pressed into the surface.

HAMILTON GLOBAL.

I picked up the card. My hands felt strangely stiff this time.

I turned it over. On the back, in clean, typed letters, were four words.

"She was never yours."

I stood there for a long time, just staring at those words. Then I laughed. It was a short, sharp laugh that came out louder than I expected in the quiet kitchen. I set the card down, shook my head, and drank my water. 

I told myself it was one of “Nora's dramatic moments.” I told myself she had probably called one of her girlfriends, packed an overnight bag, and was staying at some cheap hotel nearby to make me worry.

“Funny…”

She would be back by morning. She was always back.

I set my alarm for seven, and went to bed. I told myself that tomorrow, after I had coffee, I would call her cell phone and tell her to stop being dramatic and come home before the neighbors started asking questions.

I fell asleep thinking about Ava. Thinking about the coast, about the offshore account, and how smoothly the plan was moving.

I woke up at seven the next morning to a sound I had never heard before.

It was coming from my phone. Multiple sounds, all at once—Messages, calls, and notifications stacking on top of each other like a building collapsing in real time. 

My screen was so full it looked like it was on fire. I grabbed the phone, squinting against the brightness.

The first message was from my business partner, Derek.

"Caleb. Turn on the news. Right now."

I sat up. I opened the second message, from my lawyer.

"Have you seen the headlines? Call me immediately."

Then there was a voicemail from my bank. A text from an investor I hadn't spoken to in two years. A missed call from my accountant.

My heart was hammering as I opened the news app.

The headline filled my screen, black, bold and enormous.

"BILLIONAIRE CEO NORA HAMILTON RETURNS—HAMILTON GLOBAL STOCK SURGES 34% OVERNIGHT."

Below the headline was a photo.

It was Nora… Nora, my wife.

HOW?

But it wasn't the Nora I knew. The woman in the photo was tall, sharp and commanding in a way I couldn't understand. She was dressed in a fitted charcoal suit, standing in front of a towering glass skyscraper, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her expression cold and powerful. 

She looked like someone who had never cooked a meal in her life. She looked like someone who had never been called a burden. She looked like someone who could destroy me.

I dropped the phone, my mouth going completely dry as my mind flickered back to the ring sitting on the kitchen table, the black card beneath it, and the four words on the back that made everything tilt. “She was never yours.”

I grabbed the phone again, my hands no longer steady, and dialled her number. It rang once. Then a calm, professional voice answered.

"You have reached the office of Nora Hamilton, CEO of Hamilton Global. Ms. Hamilton is not available to take personal calls at this time. If you are a business inquiry, please contact our press office. Have a good day."

The line clicked.

I sat on the edge of my bed, in my empty house, staring at a wall.

“W-what’s going on?”

For the first time in eight years, I had absolutely no idea what to do next.